Stay Gold, Ponyboy
by The Motorcycle Boy Lives
Summary: The dance in That Was Then, This Is Now, From Ponyboy's point of view. Oneshot. Reviews appreciated!


**-Nods- Hey. Here is my next Outsiders one-shot, and I just realized it's been a while since the last time I posted one**

**This one is Ponyboy's point of view of the dance that takes place in That Was Then, This Is Now. I really wanted to write this because we see so little of Ponyboy in that book, and when we do see him, he is somewhat out of character. And this leads to some pretty odd assumptions as to what he and Mark were doing at the dance. So I just wanted to clear some things up. STAY GOLD PEOPLE!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders.**

**00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

_**Stay Gold, Ponyboy**_

_**Ponyboy's POV**_

"Here," Mark said, thrusting a can of beer at me.

I shook my head. "No thanks," I replied. Mark looked at me strangely. I added, "I've never been much of a drinker."

I thought, Darry'd skin me if he ever caught me drinkin' that stuff again.

Mark shrugged and stuffed the can in the pocket of his gold sweatshirt. I looked over my shoulder at the other guys with their dates entering the gym, but no one was watching. I slouched uneasily though, stuffing my fists in the pockets of my jeans. In the short time I had been friends with Mark, I had seen him steal a whole lot of different stuff. He tried to get me to go along with him, but mostly I couldn't though. It didn't seem right.

We were standing outside Terry Jones's car, me and Mark. We were goin' to the dance stag, along with Terry Jones, and I was glad. It was kinda embarrassing to have to ask a girl out, even though a lot of the other guys were doing it now.

"God," I said incredulously, staring at all the six-packs that were stashed in the back of Terry's car. "Where the hell did you get all of that?"

Mark dissolved into laughter. He had cover his mouth to keep quiet. "Terry's got connections, I guess." He giggled some more, than burped.

I thought, he's already drunk and we haven't even made it to the actual dance. This should look really tuff.

I remembered about Terry then. He hadn't said anything for a while. I went over to the front passenger side of the car and opened the door. "Hey," I said lightly, nudging Terry, who was now slumped down in the seat. "Wake up, man," I said. Mark laughed again.

Mark was in the back of the car, coverin' the six-packs with jackets and stuff so no one would see them. "What do we do," I asked, nudging Terry some more. "Leave him here?"

"Yeah," Mark replied. "Might as well."

As soon as we got inside, the lights dimmed. The band was playing pretty loud, and people were dancing in couples, most of them. I was pretty much lookin' forward to the dance, but the one person I really didn't want to meet was Bryon, Mark's brother. I've always thought of them as brothers, but no one ever really said anything about it.

I really didn't have anything against the guy, but Bryon just never seemed to like me, no matter how polite I was or anything. Now I just shrug it off. If he doesn't like me, he doesn't like me. But a part of it was probably Angela Shepard dumped him not to long ago to make a play for me. Jesus, I can't stand that girl. I've never even met her all that well, but she seems to be a lying little broad.

"Come on," Mark said to me. "Let's get out of the crowd."

I agreed, and we made our way to the corner of the place. It seemed to me that Mark knew tons of people. There were people coming up chatting with him every few seconds. I was probably introduced to half the guys at our highschool in ten minutes. It was sorta wierd though, some of them were whispering stuff that I couldn't hear. I didn't think much of it though. Anyway, I talked to a ton of people. One of these people was Angela. She spied me from a ways away, and walked right up to us, clutching the arm of some bored looking guy.

"Hey, Ponyboy," She said to me coyly.

"Uhh...Hi," I replied. I couldn't think of anything to say to her.

It was clear Mark didn't like this. "What do you want?" He asked her savagely.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"I mean," He looked at me quickly. "You dump my brother to make a play for my friend? And he turned you down! So why the hell did you come sniveling back?"

Angela glared at him then whipped around and stalked off, leaving the guy she was with to scramble after her through the crowd.

I couldn't say anything for a minute. When I did, I laughed a little, too, relieved. "Hey, man," I said to him. "Thanks."

Mark smiled at me, his golden eyes lighting up. "No problem."

Mark, who is a pretty short guy, stood on his tip-toes to get a look at whoever was at the entrance of the gym.

He called out, "Hey, Bryon!"

Dammit, I thought, he's here. Bryon and some girl were coming towards us from across the room. They weaved through bunches of people, and I saw Bryon frown when he saw me standing with Mark. He was probably still mad.

I frowned, standing up taller, letting him know that if he wanted a fight, he'd get one. The girl he was with though, man, she was pretty cute. I'd never met her before, but Mark probably knew her name. "Hey, Cathy," Mark greeted the girl. I wondered if anyone but me could tell he had been drinking.

Cathy. That's her name. I was pretty tired, but I had to say something to her.

"I haven't been here to see," The girl called Cathy answered Mark. I almost laughed. I got the feeling she didn't care all that much for Mark. I liked her pantsuit, too. The color, yellow, looked real good on her.

"I don't think you know Ponyboy Curtis," He said, gesturing to me. "This is Cathy Carlson."

"Hi," I said, trying to make a good impression. I tried to give some kind of a small smile, but it didn't work right. My face stayed straight. She answered sensibly, but didn't really seem interested. I liked her, though. She was nice. Not like a lot of the other girls around here.

I did notice Bryon stand taller, though, and scoot a little closer to her. I watched him again. It looked like he wanted to pick a fight with me. I was ready. For sixteen, he wasn't all that big. He was really lean, by the looks of him. And he wasn't all that much taller then I was, maybe an inch and a half or so.

I had to work hard to resist the urge to pick a fight with him, once and for all. But I didn't, 'cause it wouldn't prove a thing if I did. So I stood there, ready.

I'm pretty sure he did notice that I had a better build than both him and Mark.

He looked at Cathy, and relaxed when he saw she didn't want to talk to me much. Some girl came up and talked to Cathy, and Bryon took that as an excuse to ask Mark about the beer.

Wow, I guess he did notice.

"Where'd you get the booze?" Bryon asked.

"Out in the car- Terry's car. He's got six-six packs, and only the four of us to drink them. Go out and help yourself. Terry won't mind, he's already passed out in the front seat."

I thought about kicking Mark in the nuts for saying that. I didn't drink anything. I flashed Mark a look, but he didn't get it. I didn't really want any, but maybe I would try some later, a little, for the hell of it. But I doubted it.

I took a second and looked at Cathy again. I wondered if she was a drinker. She was interested in Bryon, at least a little, I could tell that...But-

Mark and Bryon were done talking. "Hey come on," Mark said, gesturing for us to move. "Check out those chicks."

I almost laughed again. We started towards them, leaving Bryon and Cathy. I didn't look back over my shoulder, but I wanted to.

Mark did most of the talking. That was another thing I realized, Mark was a real good talker. These girls were little sluts, little Sylvias. Some of them were alright, but most of them were dressed in short skirts that were these real bright colors. I looked at Mark, and he seemed to enjoy saying things that would make them giggle.

One of these chicks, who had been eyeing me for a while now, walked up to me.

"Ponyboy...Is that your real name?" She asked me. This broad reached up and ran her fingers through my hair. I looked her up and down, and almost shuddered when I realized she was touching me. I wanted to walk away.

"What's your name?" I asked cooly.

"Debra." She replied.

I tried to back away, I didn't want her touching me. She was disgusting. "And how old are you, Debra?" I asked her.

"Sixteen." She told me.

That shocked me. I was only fifteen. I had had enough of this. I opened my mouth to tell her I had to go, but she spoke again. "If it is your real name, I love it."

I cocked my head to one side, raised my eyebrows, and said sensibly, "Why thank you, but-"

Mark said loudly, "Hey would any of you ladies like to come have a drink with us?"

"No, I don't think so," I said, grabbing Mark by the sleeve of his sweatshirt and trying to pull him away.

The girls were dissappointed, chattering now about how mean I was being.

"Hey, man, lighten up," Mark said, laughing.

"I don't-" I started to say.

But Mark interrupted me, saying, "Look man, nothing bad's gonna happen," he turned back to one of the girls he had been talking to. "Miss, would you like to come along?"

"Sure!" She was excited.

Mark escorted the girl to the back parking lot, where Terry's car was parked. He looked back over his shoulder at me standing there, and motioned for me to follow him.

The girl I had been talking to, Debra, came up from behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist. I jerked loose and followed Mark outside, a few girls trailing after me.

-----------------------------------------------------------

"Hey, sweetie, Where ya goin'?" Mark called after the girl.

"Humph!" She walked away quickly, the ribbons in her hair bouncing.

"Not very smooth with ladies, are ya?" I asked.

"Shut up!" Mark joked, kicking me.

We were sitting on the hood of Terry Jones's car, not doing a thing. Mark was drinking, and I was smoking, not giving any thought to the signs that said not to. Terry was snoring now in the front seat. Everything was almost quiet, with the dance in full swing. But there were still a few people outside.

I took a long drag on my cigarette. Someone called out, "Hey, Curtis!" I looked up. Some character about my size and age was storming over to us.

I flicked the cigarette away and slid off the hood of the car. "Yeah?" I asked. Mark stood right beside me. He was a good guy to have in a fight. I walked to the middle of the parking lot, the guy doing the same from the opposite end. People formed a closed off circle around us. I had never seen this guy before, and I really didn't know what was goin' on.

This guy didn't say anything, just walked right up to me and swung his fist in my direction. I ducked it, then punched hard, up into his gut. He pulled away from me, long enough for me to give Mark a confused glance. He tried to say something, clearly wantin' to help, but the guy came at me again.

It would be useless to fight him, I knew that. It wouldn't prove a thing, especially since I had no idea who he was... I can really say I didn't want to fight the guy. Not 'cause I was scared, just...Nothing good would come from it. So I didn't look at it as fighting, I was protecting myself.

I couldn't move quick enough, and his fist connected with the side of my face. I wobbled, almost fell, and the guy tackled me to the ground. People standing at the sidelines were chanting and cheering, and I wished they'd stop 'cause it was distracting. He was sittin' on top of me, about to sock me again, when I grabbed his wrist, yanked to the side, and pulled him offa me.

We rolled some more, me landing the most punches, breakin' his nose for sure, then after a minute, he looked like he wanted to stop. I stood up, hesitating, then Mark came over. The guy layed there, limp and cussing in between gasps for breath. "What the hell was that about?" Mark asked me.

I shook my head. We turned our backs to this guy, me gingerly rubbing my cheek. "I don't even know who that guy is..."

"Look out!" Someone screamed behind us. Both Mark and me jumped around. The guy was back on his feet, clutching a beer bottle Mark had thrown in the grass a little while ago. He came at me again, silent. I was a little nervous right there, but not scared. Never scared. No one has ever beaten a Curtis in a fight, and that record wasn't gonna be broken here. I looked the guy up and down again, then moved forward.

I was about to swing at the guy again, when Mark jumped in front of me. I didn't know what he thought he was doing, I was more than happy to fight the guy. Mark stood firm in front of me, holding his hands out like he was gonna push the guy if he came to close. The guy stopped then, and Mark said, "Hey, come on, man, fight fair," The guy looked at him for a second, then Mark continued, "Th-"

There was a crash, I took a quick step back, thinkin' that my eyes were playing tricks on me. The guy just up and smashed Mark over the head with that goddamn bottle. I was mad so fast, my head was spinning. "You asshole!" I shouted, ready to lunge at the guy. He stepped back a little too, a little weary, dropping what was left of the bottle.

I gritted my teeth. The cop who was at the dance, not really doing anything while the fight was going on, was now yelling and waving his arms, telling people to back up and leave and make room for the ambulance to come through. The cop sprung forward, and grabbed the kid, forcing his hands behind his back. He sat the kid down, a ways away, and took out his radio, calling for an ambulance.

There were tons of people now. More and more were flooding through the doors to the gym. There was a lot of talking, too.

I looked down at Mark, laying on the ground. I dropped to my knees right next to him. "Mark? Mark, are you okay? Everything's gonna be okay, man," I reassured him. I stayed with him for a couple more minutes, not sure of what to do.

I looked down at Mark again. He was out cold. People were were talking and yelling and coming out of the dance to see what was going on. There were sirens, and red and blue lights flashing, then a cop car pulled up. A few more policeman joined the one already there, and they wouldn't let people get close to us.

For a small second, a memory came back to me. Cops, yelling, crumpling under streetlights...I shook my head, getting that memory to leave.

Bryon. Bryon needs to know. Even if we didn't like eachother, he should still know what happened to Mark. I got up, not really wanting to leave Mark there, and began to push through the crowd. "Get outta my way!" I yelled. I can pass through a crowd without much trouble when I want too. When I made it inside, Bryon and Cathy were there, on the dance floor, making no move to go outside. The crowd was still heading to the exits to see the ambulance, and I was almost trampled a few times.

The bruise on the side of my face gave a big throb. "Bryon!" I yelled. "Bryon, come quick! Mark's hurt!"

Bryon's face darkened, then. We both went back outside, Bryon leaving Cathy somewhere. Bryon followed me to where Mark was on the ground, unconcious. "Mark?" Bryon asked, taking his shirttail and wiping off some of the blood coming from the side of Mark's head. There was no answer. I knelt down on the other side of him. "His he alright?" I asked stupidly.

Bryon shook his head. "Did anyone call an ambulance?"

I nodded. "I think the cop radioed for one."

The cop was over at the other side of the parking lot, talking to the kid I fought, who was in handcuffs. "Is that the guy who did this?" Bryon asked.

"Yeah."

The kid had heard us. Bryon looked him straight in the eye and let him have it, telling him hat when he was through with him, he would be dead.

"He meant to get _me_," I said. "If that makes any difference.

"If he'd gotten you, he'd be doing me a favor." Bryon said, mumbled quickly. I gave him a wry grin. I knew he didn't mean it. I'd be doing the same if it was one of my brothers on the ground. ...Maybe Bryon's not such a bad guy after all...

"What happened?" Bryon asked.

Shook my head. "I don't know," I said. I really didn't. "Mark and me were out here sitting on the car, not doing a thing, when this guy shows up and starts in on me. I don't know why, I ain't never seen the guy before. Finally he takes a swing at me, so I have to swing back, and pretty soon we're going at it. Then this character picks up a beer bottle Mark had thrown over there in the grass and comes at me with it. About that time Mark steps in between us and says 'Hey, come on, man, fight fair.' The kid just looks at him and, for no reason, cracks him across the side of the head with it. Then the cop shows up. Right in the nick of time." I added sarcastically.

Bryon was only half listening. He was looking at the kid in handcuffs again. I looked over too, and saw Angela Shepard talking to him. Wait... Why was Angela talking to him? There was something to this that I didn't get.

Bryon asked me, "Do you know Angela Shepard?"

I shook my head, confused. "No. I know her brothers pretty well, but I've never been around her much."

I frowned. What was he getting at? I asked, "What does Angela have to do with this?"

"I'll tell you later," was all he said.

Mark moved a little and groaned. Bryon was instantly worried again. I admired that. "Mark," he said softly, "listen! Don't move, just lie still. We're going to get you to the hospital."

Mark opened his eyes. His pupils were so huge there was only a very faint ring of gold around them. Bryon picked up one of his hands, his face full of concern. I felt his arm. He was freezing. "What's wrong with him?" Bryon asked.

"Shock," I said, taking off my jacket and putting it over Mark. I knew the symptons real well, having been around them all my life.

Mark was still bleeding, and the ambulance wasn't to us yet. It seemed like it never would.

After a while, when it came, Bryon rode in the back with Mark, leaving me in the parking lot with the rest of the crowd. Soon, the lot began to clear, and people drifted off, some going home, others back to the dance. I thought about Cathy, then. She was here with Bryon, and he just left. I looked around for her, thinking she might've come outside.

I spotted her and her pretty yellow pantsuit by the entrance to the gym. She saw me, and I yelled, "Cathy!"

She managed to push her way through the crowd and get me in the parking lot, next to Terry's car.

"Hi," she said breathlessly.

"Hey," I asked her, "do you have a way to get home?"

She shook her head, looking around. "Bryon took the keys to his car..."

At that minute, there was a gurgling sound coming from Terry's car, and Terry Jones stuck his head out of the passenger window, and said groggily, "Wha's goin' on? What'd I miss?"

I snorted with laughter, and after a second, Cathy did too, a bit. We explained what had happened earlier to Terry, who was going to take his car and go home, insisting that he could drive.

"I think we should take Bryon's car to him," I told Cathy, when we were alone, "at the hospital."

"But Bryon took the keys with him," Cathy said, "we can't."

I almost laughed again. "You wait here," I told her, "I'll be right back."

I left Cathy there, and she didn't argue. I think she was kind of tired. I went and searched in the front parking lot for Bryon's car, not having seen at all in the back one.

Bryon's car was in the parking lot in the very front of the school. His car wasn't all that much to look at, an old Chevy, but who was who was I to talk? Bryon didn't leave the doors locked, so I jumped right in the driver's seat. I remembered what Mark had told me. You pull two wires out of the bottom of the steering column, make sure they're red and green, and touch them together to get the car to start, then wrap them together to keep it started. The car started with a _vroommm..._ and I backed it out of the parking lot and brought it around to the back. "Cathy!" I called when I saw her. She got in the car silently, not asking where I got it.

I felt my ears get hot. There was darkness in the car, and I was thankful for that. "You're a good driver," she said, watching me hard.

I smiled. "Thanks."

"Do you know the way to the hospital?" I asked her. I forgot. We pulled out of the parking lot, and were now heading to Main Street.

"Yes," she said, "Turn on to Main Street, and it'll be right there. It's hard to miss."

"Oh, yeah, thanks," I said, feeling really stupid.

For most of the drive, I was nervous, and couldn't think of anything to say. Cathy picked up on this, and was silent, too. I kept wanting to turn and look at her though, and a couple of times, almost did. She broke the silence after a while. She asked, "Who did you go to the dance with?"

"Ummm...Mark and me went stag. With Terry Jones, too."

"Terry Jones... I don't think I know him..."

"He's the guy that was passed out in his car for most of the dance."

Cathy shook her head, grinning broadly. "Trouble makers..." With that, she started to laugh. I did too. She smiled at me, a nice one. For the rest of the short drive, we kinda talked. About different stuff. She's really smart...

When the hospital wasn't far ahead, Cathy pointed and said, "There they are."

Bryon and Mark were outside the hospital, looking like they didn't have a clue as to how to get home. We pulled up in front, and I saw a kind of surprised look cross Bryon's face when he saw I was driving. It probably had something to do with Cathy being in the car with me. So what, I thought, he doesn't _own_ her. I took that back immediatly, thinking that sounded really mean. I put the car in park and opened the door.

"I brought your car," I said, since I didn't have anything better to tell him. "I figured you wouldn't have a way to get home. Is Mark going home?"

"Yeah," Bryon said. "They said for him to stay in bed for a couple of days and to come back in a couple of weeks to get the stitches out. Help me get him in the car."

I didn't like the tone of his voice, like he was ordering me, but I got out anyway to help my friend.

Mark was leaning back against the steps to the hospital door, and was looking really uncomfortable. His mood changed when he saw me, though. "Hey, hey, hey, Ponyboy!" he greeted me. "What are you doin' here?"

I didn't say anything. He was high or somethin', and he wouldn't remember this very well anyway. I just smiled awkwardly. Bryon and I pulled Mark to his feet with a lot of effort, and we each slung an arm across our shoulders. Wow...Mark was surprisingly light. He did have a pretty tiny frame, but from all of the fights he had been in, he seemed really tough.

"Come on, buddy boy," Bryon said, cheerfully. "Time to go home."

Mark kept telling us that he could walk. We let him once, and he almost fell. So we ended up half-dragging, half-carrying him to Bryon's car. We put him in the back seat, where he stretched out and sighed happily. I climbed in the back seat as well, and had to push him over to give me more room. He started to giggle.

"Hey," Bryon asked me suddenly, turning around. "How'd you start the car without any keys?"

Cathy turned around and asked the same. My ears turned bright red again, as they stared at me. I hesitated, then said, "I hot-wired it. Mark showed me how to weeks ago."

Bryon almost laughed. My ears got redder, and I wanted them to stop looking at me. "Don't make that a habit," Bryon said.

I shook my head, giving a small smile. "I never done it before." I said quietly.

------------------------------------------------------

Bryon dropped me off near my house, actually saying goodbye to me, I noticed. I stood there on the sidewalk, giving a half-wave as the car pulled away. It turned off the street and was out of sight in a few seconds. I took a deep breath, my face still bruised from the fight, and my lip still cut. I looked at my house, I wasn't very far from it, and just thought. And thought. My mind running through the stuff that happened tonight.

I do that a lot. I like remembering everything that happens, good or bad, I like having memories that will always be there. Even if people leave, it's not like they're gone, because you have their memories. I sat down on the sidewalk, suddenly a little tired. I thought about taking a walk down to the lot, then panicked. Looking at the stars, it was late. Maybe past midnight. I could not remember what time Darry had said I had to be in.

I looked back at my house again, then smiled. The lights were not on. Everything was dark and silent. Darry and Soda were asleep, not up waiting for me.

I walked slowly up to my house, biting my nail out of habit. Thinking, I have a whole new story to tell the gang tomarrow. A new story to tell them all.

_**FINI.**_

**0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

**Aw...I just love the ending...That's my favorite part. Anyways, I hope you like it. I put a lot of time and energy into it, and now it's very long. I actually considered doing it in chapters, but I changed my mind. Might turn into a two-shot, but I doubt it.**

**So, that's my take on what the dance in TWTTIN was like for young Ponyboy Curtis. AND If you can figure out who the very last sentence is directed to, you will recieve a virtual cookie.**

**So now, all I can do is hope you liked it, didn't think Ponyboy was too big a sissy, and remind you to REVIEW, please.**

**Till Next Time,**


End file.
